Is there life after death?
Makes me think of that sometimes
Will I be or just get
A pile of dust and bone chip lies.

I listen to those who fear this scene
And tell me that I am unclean
If I don’t try to follow thee
There won’t be a place for little old me

Except down under the earth and sea
Perhaps a better place for me.

Unless of course there is a hell
And then I’m ******* if judged too well
So when I’m six feet in the ground
I hope I don’t even hear a sound.